


The Price

by GRINtelligencer



Series: Mr Grey Knight [2]
Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: AU, Bad Things Happened, Consequences, M/M, War Stories, time skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2012-11-12
Packaged: 2017-11-18 11:57:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GRINtelligencer/pseuds/GRINtelligencer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tossed out of the Abyss after making a deal with the Will of the Abyss to save Break Liam deals with the consequences of being years ahead of where he should be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Price

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second part of the story that sprung out of the prompt below, dealing with the consequences of Liam going into the Abyss. I broke these up into two pieces because this felt much more like a sequel than a second chapter. More about the war and what happened back around Liam went into the Abyss to follow. I think I renamed the new character about four times, wanting to keep with the Rainsworth tradition of naming their women with names the start with the ‘sh’. Wily old Oz was great fun, I kind of think he’s ever so slightly senile but still quite sharp.
> 
> Prompt: “I would just like to see someone else besides Break (Kevin) meeting Will of the Abyss, whether it's to ask her to change the past or they just randomly fell into the Abyss or whatever. This doesn't have to be as a pairing or for smut, although I certainly won't object if it goes that way! Angst or general insanity is also fine.”
> 
> Warnings for mentions of violence, torture, and mental instability.

 

\-------------------------------------------

 

“Sir, someone’s been tossed out of the Gate!”

“Is he alive?”

“I think so, sir. Look, he’s opening his eyes.”

Liam stared up into the unfamiliar face, he knew the uniform, that was definitely a Pandora crest, but why didn’t he know the face? And why was he lying on his back looking up at the ceiling?

Another, older and bearded face came into his line of sight, looking down at him with suspicion. He too wore a Pandora uniform but now that he was paying attention the lines were slightly different from what he was used to. His face was also one Liam had not seen before.

“Think he’s a Baskerville?” the original man asked the other.

The older man reached over to cuff the younger on the side of the head. “Do you think I’d be leaning over him if I thought that? Think a little you idiot.”

“But he came from the Abyss!” The younger man protested, holding his head with an injured expression. “You never-- what the--” he yelped as a burst of colorful lights burst into the air next to him. “I didn’t say you could come out!” he yelled at what was clearly a chain solidifying.

The March Hare ignored its master’s ire and hovered over Liam, chirruping happily.

Liam smiled and reached up a hand to ruffle its fur. “I see you managed to find a new contractor. That was…” he was about to say ‘fast’ but then it occurred to him that it might not have been. He literally had no idea no just where and _when_ he was. He could be in any either of those.

When he glanced over at the two men they were both staring at him with open mouthes. Finally the younger one turned to the older and said, with a vaguely accusing tone, “I thought you said no one had contracted with March Hare for almost eighty years!”

“No one has,” the older one said, “Not since Liam Lunettes disappeared.”

“Sir?” the younger man asked. “He’s that contractor that died in the war, isn’t he?”

Without even looking the older man reached over and smacked the side of the younger man’s head. “Didn’t you listen in the history training? Lunettes disappeared in the first Battle of Pandora; no one ever knew what happened to him. They thought the Baskervilles took him but…” he paused thoughtfully, and then shook his head, seeming to come back to the present from far away and snapped, “Vessalius!”

The younger man snapped to attention. “Yessir?”

“Run aboveground and tell them we have a something interesting down here. Make sure they send a message to the higher ups, this is important. Now, get going!”

“But my chain--”

“Leave it, Vessalius. Go!” The older man’s bark had the younger scurrying away, up the stairs.

Gently pushing the March Hare out of the way Liam sat up and, when that didn’t cause any problems, got to his feet. There he staggered and might have fallen back down but the older man reached out to grab his arm, steadying him.

“Just wait a little,” the older man told him. “We’ve got to do this properly and that means getting the nobles. That sometimes takes a bit.”

“I understand.” Liam told him. “But in the meantime… where exactly is this?” There was something about this room that was familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it.

“Rainsworth household gate,” The older man replied.

Liam patted the March Hare (who seemed rather thrilled by this turn of events and was trilling excitedly), and asked, “And what might the year be?”

The older man’s lips tightened and he said, “It would better if we waited for the Lady Rainsworth to explain that, if you don’t mind. I’m just a Gate-watcher, it’s not my place to, um, put things delicately to people.”

“Gate-watcher?” Liam repeated curiously, the title meant nothing to him.

“Baskervilles still sometimes come through the Gates,” the older man replied. “With so many households right above the gates it was best to keep a watch on them just in case. It’s been a while since anyone’s come out of this Gate though.” The look the man was giving him was speculative but after that he kept the rest of his thoughts to himself for which Liam was slightly grateful.

He was waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the horrible consequence for what he had done. But so far… well, it was probably too early to really tell.

“You should go back to your contractor,” he told March Hare finally. “He won’t like it if you stay away from him too long.”

The chain regarded him, its head to the side, then burbled in agreement, gave him a last fond nudge and disappeared.

Half an hour passed before a representative of the ‘higher ups’ managed to make their way down to the gate and she was preceded by six men in that slightly different Pandora uniform, who he presumed to be contractors. They arranged themselves along the walls of the chamber, watching him carefully, presumably in case he turned out to actually be a Baskerville. As they did this they revealed the figure at the back of the group, the noble.

It was a young woman, demurely dressed in a style that was slightly different from what he was used to, and her face was so startlingly familiar he took a step forward before he could stop himself (all along the walls Pandora contractors tensed). “Lady Sharon?”

As soon as he said the name he knew it couldn’t be her, now that he was looking he could see this girl’s eyes were the wrong color, she was slightly taller, her figure slightly fuller than Sharon’s had ever been.

She smiled at him and said, “I have been told often by Lord Oz that I resemble my grandmother strongly. How interesting to see it is true. Now, I must apologize for being such a poor host, I realize I made you wait some time. However,” She held up something, a small piece of thick paper, “Once I heard what had happened I had to find this where it had been stored away.” She regarded the paper and looked intently at him and then stared at the paper again. Finally she nodded. “Mister Lunettes, may I be the first to say that your arrival here today is completely unexpected.”

When she flipped the paper so he could see the other side he realized it was a photo, worn and a little faded. The last time he had seen that photograph it had been freshly developed, right after Lord Oscar Vessalius had declared the impromptu tea party it had been taken to commemorate. Now it was curling around the edges with age and the whites were going grey.

“How long…” he had to swallow and start again, “How long has it been?”

“My name is Sherlyn Rainsworth,” the girl told him. “Lady Sharon Rainsworth was my maternal grandmother. And it has been eighty years since anyone last saw you, Mister Lunettes.”

_Eighty years._ The weight of the time he had missed hit him like a physical blow and he felt his knees go weak. He might have actually fallen to them except the older man who had been with him all along caught his shoulder. “Steady on, sir. You’re out of the Abyss; everything has got to be up from there, eh?”

“O-of course.” he replied automatically, mind working to fast to pay attention to what he said. In that length of time surely the others must have beaten the Baskervilles. But had they dealt with the spirit of Glen Baskerville? Had they --Break-- granted the Will of the Abyss’ wish?

“You must be tired,” Lady Sherlyn said, breaking through his chain of thoughts. “I cannot begin to imagine what you’ve been through. Eat, rest, and we will talk later.”

And true to her words he was shown to a room in the Rainsworth mansion, not the one he used to stay in, he honestly didn’t think he could have handled that at the time, he had his hands full just trying not to pick up the little out of place details in the mansion as he passed through it.

Once safely in what, if he remembered correctly, was one of the guest suites he was able to wash off the fine layer of grime he had accumulated in the Abyss and fall into a beautifully soft and blessedly clean bed. He hadn’t slept in almost (he had to suppress a hysterical laugh when he thought about it) eighty years and he was _exhausted_.

Apparently no one expected him awake any particular time the next day because when he woke evening light was slanting through the open window. Someone had come and gone in that time, making his old uniform disappear and leaving another in its place. It was a subtly different cut from his old one, and little details --like how the trim here was different, and there was no pocket there-- had changed.

Putting the new uniform on Liam almost laughed at the thought that his old one was probably considered an antique. Then he realized that actually wasn’t all that funny.

Thankfully the need to eat, the very insistent need to eat too, distracted him from dwelling too much on that thought. That was good, hysterical laughter was not how he wanted to start this day.

Food proved to be a bit of a problem however, it was six thirty according the the clock in the hallway, dinner in the Rainsworth household was served at five and would be long over now. But if the cook was anything like to one he remembered served the Rainsworths she would leave a sideboard for some time afterward, just in case of stragglers to the meal.

Descending down the servant’s stairway he was glad that no one appeared to be about, explaining his presence to a confused maid could have been difficult and he was _starving_. The sideboard was still there, just as the cook in his time would have left it.

His hand was halfway to the apple in the top of the fruit bowl when a voice from behind him made him snatch his hand back rather guiltily.

“I was wondering if you would sleep all day.”

Formerly hidden in the shadows that had cloaked the far end of the room Lady Sherlyn shut the tome she had been reading and crossed her hands on top of it. “From what I’ve read of those who managed to escape from the Abyss it wouldn’t be too unusual.”

“Others have escaped?” he asked.

“Xerxes Break, Lord Oz,” she listed them on her fingers, and then paused to think, “And the occasional Baskerville that didn’t manage to make their way out of the Abyss before their family fell. All of them almost immediately fell into a sleep so deep that no one could wake them for several hours.”

“I wasn’t in the Abyss for very long,” he said, then frowned, “At least, from my point of view it wasn’t. From this side…”

“Pandora history says you just disappeared, right after the first big battle.” Lady Sherlyn touched the book she had been reading, “I’m something of a historian of Pandora, when I have the time for it. In every account I’ve read no one knew what happened to you, the official records say that you were taken prisoner by the Baskervilles. But I remember Lord Oz telling me --he likes to tell stories of the old days, you see-- that no matter how many Baskerville hideouts Xerxes Break stormed he was never able to find any trace of you. I guess that would be because you were never taken by the Baskervilles at all, you were in the Abyss. How did--” she cut herself off and gave him an apologetic smile. “I apologize; this must be a lot all at once. You probably don’t want to talk about it so soon, I just can’t help myself. You’re one of the biggest mysteries in Pandora history; quite literally _no one_ knew what happened to you, not even Xerxes Break.”

“I don’t supposed that Xerxes would still be--”

But she was already shaking her head. “I’m sorry but no. He died right after the end of the war. There is someone who you would have known who _is_ alive and very much wishes to speak to you. It’s fortunate that Pandora headquarters isn’t far away, so you can get there before nightfall. He goes to sleep quite early, you see.”

Liam took a moment to rephrase what had sprung to mind in terms that were better suited to addressing a noble. “With the greatest respect, you’re wrong. The Pandora headquarters is almost a day’s ride away from the Rainsworth estate.” He caught the flicker in her expression. “Or, the headquarters I knew was. Is that now not the case?”

“The headquarters were completely destroyed in the third Baskerville attack. They were burned to the ground by Gilbert Nightray in an attempt to kill the enemies trapped inside. Construction on the present headquarters started right after the end of the war.”

Briefly Liam wondered if this young woman knew how much she sounded like a history volume.

“In any case,” Lady Sherlyn nodded at the sideboard, “You should eat, its not polite to make the head of Pandora wait to speak to you.”

He picked up the apple he had been previously reaching for. “‘The head of Pandora’? Lord Barma wishes to speak to me?”

She blinked at him for a moment, “No, the last Lord of the Barma family died in the war. And--” her hand shot up to cover her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She said. “I- I forgot you were a servant of the Barma household. That was… rather rude of me.”

“You’re telling me Rufus Barma is dead?”

After only a second’s pause she nodded.

“And Gilbert Nightray?”

“Gone.”

“Lady Sharon?”

“My grandmother passed away fourteen years ago.”

“What about--”

Holding up a hand she said, “The person who I’m taking you to is much more… suited to tell you these things. He actually knew the people you’re talking about whereas I only tell you the much drier accounts of history volume.” She rose from her chair and brushed out the folds of her skirt. “Eat, I have to see that the carriage is ready.”

He did, and was then surprised to find that the new Pandora headquarters really was close to the Rainsworth mansion, in fact, it stood just off the edge of the estate. This was not the old, well, worn but still elegant building he had long grown used to. Who on earth had had a hand in making it so very bare? There wasn’t even the austere elegance of a sweeping main stair in the lobby, it was so… utilitarian.

But the room he was shown into showed that at least someone had a fondness for what were undoubtably now ‘the old fashioned’ ways. Bookshelves heavy with volumes lined the walls, there was a fire in the fireplace and from one of the armchairs situated by that fireplace an old man was watching him.

“Here he is, sir,” the man who had shown him in said, “Liam Lunettes.”

The old man peered intently at Liam through his glasses, then waved a hand vaguely at the man, “Yes, I can see that. Now go away. Shoo.”

When the door clicked closed behind the man the old man pointed at the chair across from him. “Sit.” he ordered.

But Liam didn’t, he stayed exactly where he was, there was something about the old man that was gnawing at him.

The old man’s face was a mass of wrinkles fanning out from the corner of his eyes and across his forehead; he had a mane of white hair that stuck up in several directions, messy despite the fact that he was quite well dressed. From behind those glasses green eyes, only slightly rheumy, were watching him.

It was the way the slight smile crossed the old man’s face that gave it away.

“Lord…Oz?” he asked slowly.

The old man chortled and smacked his knee, “Knew you’d figure it out. Took you longer than I thought, what, not expecting me to be old? Some of us had to live these eighty years instead of skipping them, eh? Now, sit down.”

He did, but could feel Lord Oz was watching him the entire time. The fire was a warm blaze on his left side, which should have been comforting but he was still trying to stop seeing the small teenager in the wrinkled old man in the other chair and that made it difficult to relax.

Resting worn hands on the arms of his chair Lord Oz said, “You’ve been gone for a long time, Mister Liam. No doubt a lot of things are quite different now from what they used to be. But, if I’ve learned one thing in all these years it’s that everything changes, given enough time. My late wife certainly taught me that.”

“Wife?” Liam echoed.

“I married Alice.”

“You married a _chain?_ ” he couldn’t keep the incredulity from his voice.

“No, no, by then she was human again. You missed a whole war and its aftermath, Mister Liam, that little chestnut is the least of the things I have to tell you, believe me. Vincent Nightray married my little sister.”

Liam spluttered.

“That my reaction at first too. I disapproved of that one strongly until I saw how he acted around her. Ada produced one of the smaller miracles of the war when she convinced Vincent to turn double agent and start passing us information about the Baskervilles. Of course it helped that Gil,” a flicker of pain passed over the old man’s face at the memory, “was killed by a Baskerville.”

The news hit Liam like a blow. Gilbert Nightray, murdered. “H-he was killed? He’s dead?”

Lord Oz’s eyes narrowed and he banged his fist on the arm of his chair, “It’s been eighty years, they’re all dead, you fool! Those that didn’t die in the war withered away long ago. I’m the only one left now, Mister Liam, and I’m just a senile old man who the young pups keep in charge to make them feel better. Everyone else… is gone.” he slumped back into his chair with a sigh. “And the truth of the fact is that I’m probably not going to be here much longer either.”

“…I’m sorry.” Liam offered, though it seemed rather inadequate in the face of what he had just heard.

“Why were you in the Abyss, Mister Liam?” Lord Oz asked wearily. “What happened to you?”

“Break died.”

“No he didn’t.” Lord Oz snapped immediately. “And it’s a good thing too, we wouldn’t have won the war without Xerxes Break. He never-- ah-hah!” suddenly Lord Oz broke off and got a very contemplative look on his face. “You changed the past.” he said. “You actually went to the Abyss and had the Will of the Abyss change it so he didn’t die.”

“I did.”

“But how did you manage to get into the Abyss?”

“I broke my contract mirror. When the March Hare was pulled back into the Abyss I convinced it to take me with it. Apparently the location of the Will of the Abyss is common knowledge among the chains.”

Lord Oz was nodding thoughtfully. “Yes, that makes sense. As expected of you, Mister Liam, a well thought out plan. So with Will of the Abyss actually agreed to do as you asked?”

“She…” he paused to look for the right word for it, “ _Benefitted_ as well. Break had not yet completed something she very much wished him to finish.” 

“Yes, Her wish.” said Lord Oz thoughtfully, much to Liam’s surprise. “He told me about it, during the war. He didn’t have a choice by then, he needed help and… you weren’t there anymore. You were missing for all that time and when my grandson made a contract with March Hare a few years ago and I figured that settled it. That proved you had to be dead.”

“About the war,” Liam began cautiously, “I realize this might be something you don’t want to discuss but… I need to know. What happened?”  
The old man inspected him intently with his sharp eyes. “That was a long time ago, Mister Liam, any reticence I’ve had to discussing those events has long since passed.” he stroked his chin contemplatively for a moment, thinking. “Hmm, where to begin… I suppose we should start with you, Mister Liam. You disappeared. That was back in the first attack on Pandora headquarters, right at the start of the war. The last time anyone remembered seeing you was during the battle, you were fighting that little Baskerville girl’s chain again. And then there was no trace of you. You were just… gone. No one saw you after that and there was no body. We assumed the Baskervilles took you --Break was furious. I’ve never seen him so angry.

“It got very nasty after that, the Baskervilles had us driven back to the headquarters until Barma brought a relief force from his home country. Of course, we lost ground in the next battle, but Gil killed a lot of Baskervilles when he set the headquarters on fire with Raven. I was leading the retreating force with Alice and Sharon so I didn’t see much of the end of that battle. Wish I had because we lost Gil right after, that was when Ada got Vincent to own up to what he was doing and offer Rufus Barma the chance to use him as a spy. He accepted of course and that gave us the advantage when we fought the Baskervilles again so we actually managed to keep a sealing stone safe. Then…” Lord Oz glanced at his expression and let his voice trail off. “You look as if there’s a question you want to ask.”

“There is, but I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Lord Oz waved hand at him. “Ask away.”

“You said that Xerxes was instrumental in winning the war,” Liam said, “But so far you’ve mentioned four battles and his name hasn’t come up at all after the first. Where was he all that time?”

Lacing his hands together in front of him, Lord Oz rested his forehead against them for a long moment. When he finally looked up though his fingers his eyes were grim. “You vanished and we figured the Baskervilles had you; then Break got… well, you were _gone_ , Mister Liam. He was never the same after that. All the subtlety, all the patience he was so well known for was gone, just like you. He left Pandora --not officially but that’s what it amounted to-- and he attacked every Baskerville stronghold and enemy bolt-hole he could track down like a man possessed. Looking for you, of course. He was always looking for you, after that. 

“Everything else was secondary to rescuing you, because Break was convinced that if he looked hard enough he’d be able to find you. He helped us win the war, his attacks on the enemy kept them constantly distracted while we tried to counterattack. I don’t think he really cared about the war, or us, though; if he could have found you without wiping out the Baskervilles’ strongholds he would have. But you were never there and it didn’t matter how many Baskervilles he tortured to information, they never knew anything about where you were.”

“Tortured?” Liam echoed, his voice horrified. “Break _tortured_ \--”

“He changed.” Lord Oz interrupted him. “Break wasn’t really even sane toward the end. He _hurt_ Sharon even --she was trying to stop him, he was killing himself being an idiot berserker. His mind just broke under the strain. Fighting a war, doing what the Will of the Abyss wanted, looking for you; not even Xerxes Break could do all that at once. Especially when he never found you in the Baskerville prisons.”

“I was never with the Baskervilles.” Liam said, though his words were hollow.

“We know that now. No one did then, we had no idea you’d changed things. You were gone and Break spent the rest of his life looking for you.”

“You… you make it sound as if I killed him.”

“In a very real way, you did.” mused Lord Oz. “Well, not you but the ghost of you, the memory. It drove Break insane. _You_ drove Break insane.”

“I…” he trailed off because what could really be said in the face of that accusation?

Then the laughter burbled up, from deep inside, so he was laughing and laughing and couldn’t stop. That hysterical laugher he had been suppressing so long had finally found its way to the surface.

Lord Oz was eyeing him warily but he couldn’t stop the laughing until he crammed a fist against his mouth.

“What exactly is so funny?” the old man demanded.

“…my price.” he managed, “… that would be it. Xerxes… killing him… it’s the price…” he couldn’t finish, the weight of the knowledge of what he had done was so ridiculous he couldn’t stop laughing at the horrible truth of it. What he had done couldn’t be undone and it couldn’t be fixed; that was something he was going to have to live with.

The Will of the Abyss had said he would pay heavily for changing the past.

And he had.

 

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